


Hang In There, Get Well Soon

by elliceluella



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Basically everyone just needs to get Matty balloons period, Gen, Karen is the patron saint of balloons, Matt needs more adorable balloons in his life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4957921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliceluella/pseuds/elliceluella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Matt releases the balloon and grabs the small weight at the end of the ribbon just in time. He toys with it and sighs. What is he going to do with a balloon?</i>
</p><p>A teeny little expansion about Matt and his monkey balloon from episode 11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hang In There, Get Well Soon

**Author's Note:**

> I promise my main attention was still on how adorable Matt looked in ep 11, but I couldn't help noticing how Karen's gift tended to be in the same frames as he was for those scenes at his apartment.  
> So....does that mean Matt, sad dumpster puppy ninja that he is, is actually moving the balloon around because maybe, just maybe, he likes having it near him?  
> I just couldn't get that idea out of my head.

"It's got a monkey on it." Karen waves before leaving his apartment. Matt hears the door shut, her footsteps gradually fading as she walks along the corridor outside and then eventually leaves his building.

Matt stays on the armrest of his chair and holds the balloon for the longest time. He doesn't move, doesn't take his glasses off even though the bridge is pressing slightly on that cut on his nose. He doesn't move, partly because it still hurts like a bitch whenever he does, and partly because...well, because feeling worse than crap on the inside tends to make one reluctant to do anything, period.

He wasn't lying when he told Karen that earlier. He feels bad for making Foggy cry last night, and now he feels horrible for lying to Karen and making her worry about him. He just sits there and languishes in his shitty cesspit of emotions, feeling the balloon faintly tug on the ribbon in his hand as it floats above him.

He doesn't know why Karen's gift has him feeling so raw and exposed, not to mention clinging so tightly and reluctant to let go. He liked balloons enough as a kid, sure, but quickly grew out of it once he was no longer able to appreciate their colors and shapes. He particularly hated when they popped unexpectedly, because it sounded like a clap of thunder to him. It was embarrassing because no 10-year-old jumps when a balloon pops, Suzie McPherson had said one day during recess after some kid's balloon popped and Matt spilled milk all over his jeans.

Matt recalls the last time he was given a balloon. Battlin' Jack had won a match the night before and the two of them were still riding on a champion's high the next day as they went out for ice cream and a walk in the park. They passed by a balloon cart and his dad bought him one that was shaped like a car, all red and shiny with a cool white streak of lightning on its side. As his dad described the balloon to him, Matt tried his best to picture it in his head.

He knew why his dad bought him that balloon even though he could no longer see. Jack always believed that blind or not, Matt could be as good as, no, probably even better than anyone else. He always believed in him.  He didn't see a reason why Matt couldn't enjoy the same things other kids did. And as much as Matt dreaded an unexpected pop from his balloon, he fully understood and appreciated his dad's gesture.  Matt never felt happier than when they walked around the park that day with their ice creams and a balloon in tow.

So, there's a monkey on this one, apparently. He brings the balloon closer and touches it, wondering what the monkey is doing. Is it swinging on a tree? Is it munching on a banana? Matt releases the balloon and grabs the small weight at the end of the ribbon just in time. He toys with it and sighs. What is he going to do with a balloon?

As much as Matt hates to admit it though, he slowly begins to enjoy having the balloon with him. He likes the way it bobs when he's moving around with it, and how still it eventually gets after he sets it down. The perpetual mystery as to what the monkey is doing on it just adds to the fun.

He puts the balloon down near his dining table when he makes himself a sandwich. He chews slowly, wearing a small smile that he isn't even aware of. Claire pops by soon after to check up on him. She chuckles when she spots the balloon.

"Is this for not dying the other night?" she asks with a raised eyebrow and a quirked half-grin.

"You could say that," Matt says.

"It's cute. Got a monkey on it."

"So I'm told. What's it doing, though? Hanging from a tree or something?"

Claire laughs. It's such a pleasant sound, he wishes she did more of that.

"No, it's uh- It's wearing what I'm guessing is either a huge T-shirt or a hospital gown that says "Hang in there...get well soon" and it's standing against a blue and orange background with a huge smile on its face."

"Oh. Thanks for solving that mystery for me," Matt grins, hoping he doesn't have a sheepish look on his face.

His chat with Father Lantom leaves him more winded than he's comfortable with, panting by the time he reaches his apartment. The image of a well-wishing smiling monkey pops into his head at that moment. He changes out of his clothes puts the balloon behind him, near the window as he sits on the carpet to meditate. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

He struggles rather unsuccessfully with meditation for two hours, jarring flashbacks about the other night relentless and haunting. This isn't going the way he'd hoped. He gets up and brings the balloon along to the kitchen as he gets a drink, then puts it next to him on the sofa afterwards. He fiddles with the small weight as he contemplates getting better armour for his night activities. Screw it, he's thinks. He's probably going to rip open several stitches again but anything's better than sitting around. He places the balloon back at the spot near the window before putting on the mask and heading out to look for Turk.

The balloon eventually takes up permanent residence in a corner in Matt's bedroom. Every night he finds an excuse to go around that corner and poke it with his fingers because he likes that funny hollow sound whenever it bounces off his hand.

Matt knows the balloon is deflating, but he leaves it where it is until it's a crumpled heap on his floor a couple weeks later. He picks it up, smooths it out on his bed before folding it neatly and placing it at the bottom of his bedside drawer. He reckons he wouldn't mind too terribly if someone gave him another balloon again in the future, a lazy final thought before drifting off to sleep.


End file.
